It was there all the time
by Cats070911
Summary: A transport strike two days before Christmas ends up changing her plans for the entire holiday season.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. This story started off as my Christmas story but grew... So I thought I would start publishing now to get us in the mood. (Leonie - it is snake free, so you can read without risking your phone.)

* * *

The rain was unrelenting. In the blustery gale, water seemed to spray Barbara Havers from every angle. When a car drove past her, going far faster than was safe in the conditions, water even splashed her from below. She waved her umbrella at the car and swore. It was a mistake. At that moment, a blast of icy wind caught her only means of creating any illusion she would stay dry and blew it inside out.

Barbara swore again. This time it was venomous and included a curse on every London bus driver who had decided that a stormy night two days before Christmas was the perfect time to hold a snap strike to protest recent violent attacks on staff. She turned the corner towards the nearest Underground station. A line of people was backed back almost 500 yards, all jockeying for cover as they pushed towards the station entrance.

"Ah, bloody hell!"

It would take hours to get a train. In this weather, she would be able to walk to Camden faster than waiting for a cab. She shoved her dead umbrella into an already overflowing garbage bin outside the nearby 7Eleven. It acted like a bowl and rapidly filled with rain as the heavens opened into a torrent she imagined was akin to a monsoon. The crowd pressed back further as everyone tried to shelter from the unseasonal weather under the awnings of the shops. She was squashed in, barely able to breathe. When a large man with the breath of a horse stable stepped onto her toe, Barbara had had enough. Swearing vehemently, she forced her way to the front of the growing crowd and back into the deluge.

A van, plastered with slogans and posters in support of the drivers drove slowly along the line. A loudspeaker mounted on the roof bellowed about the rights of workers to safe, violence-free workplaces. Several people surged towards the van hurling abuse and the occasional shoe or drink bottle.

"I'm beginning to see why they bloody well attack you!" Barbara shouted in a tone that did not befit her status as a Detective Sergeant charged with upholding peace, and the rule of law.

She momentarily wrestled with her anger and her responsibility to intervene to prevent an attack, when police whistles blew behind her, and four mounted police rode their horses between the van and the commuters threatening to become rioters. The van drove away, and the crowd pushed back towards the station.

Still cursing everyone and everything she knew, a sodden Barbara stomped back to Scotland Yard where she kept a spare set of clothes and toiletries in a bag under her desk. She planned to sleep in her boss's office then shower and dress in the morning in the change room downstairs. She had done it once or twice before without attracting any undue attention.

Her dinner would be one or two of the giant chocolate chip cookies in the vending machine. As she exited the lift, she extricated all her spare coins from the front pocket of her wet jeans. She was about to insert them when she noticed F8 had no cookies. She scanned the machine. It was nearly empty. She counted her loose change and examined the prices. Dinner would be a Snickers and packet of potato crisps.

Clutching her crisps and chocolate in her teeth, Barbara hung her coat on the rack, then pulled her bag from under her desk. No one was in the squad room. She had been the last to leave, apart from her boss, Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley. He had wanted to finish some emails but had assured her he would not work late.

His room was in darkness. Unusually, his door was closed, but Barbara did not bother to knock. She opened the door, threw her bag on the floor near the desk, and turned on the light.

There was a bang near the window sounding like wood on the glass. "Bloody heck!"

She jumped, not expecting Tommy to still be in his office. The bags fell from her mouth as she let out an anguished, "arrrrgh!" She bent down and snatched up her dinner. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's my office," he protested. "What are you doing here? And why are you all wet?" He looked past her. "You've left a wet slick all the way through the squad room."

"You were at the window. Didn't you notice it's raining?"

"Not really."

Barbara tutted. "The bus drivers have pulled a snap strike, and the Tube had queues back to the City Hall. So much for legislation about unions needing to provide notice. You didn't answer my question. Why are you standing there in the dark?"

Tommy rubbed the front of his head where he had hit it on the edge of the window frame. "Thinking."

"And you can't do that with the light on?"

"Not as effectively."

Barbara understood that type of thinking only too well. She had thought Tommy was a tad too cheerful in the lead up to Christmas. It was a time of the year when many people found their pasts intruding uninvited on their present. "Sorry to interrupt."

He waved his hand to indicate there was no need to apologise, and indeed no desire to discuss it any further. "You'll catch your death in those wet clothes."

"I was going to change into my spare gear and..."

"Yes?"

"Sleep under your desk."

"Barbara! You're not a Labrador. You can't sleep under my desk."

She sighed loudly then picked up her bag. "Fine. I'll sleep in the squad room."

"No. You won't. Get changed out those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia. You can stay at my place. Getting to Camden and back will be too hard on a wet night if the transport is off."

"But, Sir, I don't want to impose. If you need time alone..." She did not finish her sentence.

"I don't. I need company. I wasn't sitting here pining for Helen if that's what you were thinking. I was just... I was thinking about the future and..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Now go and get changed. That's an order."

"Thanks." Barbara turned to leave.

"Wait. Sorry, where are my manners? Change in here." Barbara raised her eyebrows. "I'll wait in the squad room," he said with a small cheeky grin.

* * *

"Thanks for this," Barbara said as Tommy showed her the spare room.

"My pleasure. I couldn't have you sleeping under my desk, could I?"

"I've done it before."

"Have you? Why?"

Barbara looked away. "Things like tonight. Times when staying has been easier than getting home." She did not mention the times when he had been on sick leave after Helen's shooting when she had needed to feel close him.

"Well, no more, Sergeant Havers. You are to come here. That's an order."

Barbara could not help but grin at him. He gave her such a lovely return smile that her heart fluttered in her chest. Even though he had a sizeable ego, and knew he was an attractive man, Tommy had no idea how utterly adorable he was when he smiled at her like that. It was as comforting as hot chocolate pudding on a cold winter's night.

"Hungry?"

Barbara laughed. "I was just thinking about food."

"I know."

Barbara shook her head as he turned and headed downstairs. She followed closely on his heels still laughing. At the bottom, he stopped and turned. Barbara nearly tumbled into him, averting a collision in the last few inches.

"What's so funny now?" he asked.

"I'm following you just like Labrador does at the mention of food."

"Should I start calling you Marley?"

Barbara shook her head. Her face hurt from smiling and speaking would spoil the moment. It was not a romantic moment or even one with a deep spiritual connection. It was merely two friends enjoying a joke. Friends. Not Inspector and Sergeant. Not Eton and Acton. Not Earl and peasant. For the first time, she realised she was his equal in this one aspect of their lives.

"I don't think so, thank you, Tommy." She walked past him towards his kitchen, resisting the temptation to put her finger under his chin and push his gaping mouth closed.

To his credit, and her relief, he did not mention that she had finally begun to address him by his name. In the kitchen, he acted as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

Barbara perched herself on one of the high kitchen stools. "What are we eating?"

"Homemade pizzas, I think," he said as he began getting ingredients out of his fridge. He put his oven on high to heat while he pulled two medium pizza bases from his freezer. "What sort do you fancy?"

"I don't know. Surprise me."

He raised his eyebrows twice in a playful gesture she knew meant that he had accepted her statement as a challenge. "Now, drinks." He checked his fridge. "Beer? Wine? Orange juice? Water? Or..." He reached in behind some other bottles. "I have champagne."

"Champagne and pizza sound extravagant, even for an earl. Beer please."

He pulled two beers from the fridge and handed her one. "Cheers."

"Cheers, Tommy."

In her head, he was always Tommy, so it was easy to make the change. When she used his name this time, he grinned at her with the same expression that visited her in her dreams. That only made her more determined to call him Tommy all the time. They stood silently, looking at each other, grinning in turn and drinking their beer.

Tommy handed her another beer before preparing his topping, Barbara scraped every bit of pizza sauce from the plastic container and spread it over the bases. It was barely enough, so with the back of the spoon she scraped it as thinly as she could. Tommy began to arrange strips of bacon in radial lines from the centre before cracking two eggs over it and covering it with pieces of fresh mozzarella that he had sliced. "Bacon and egg pizza for me. Now, what will I make you?"

"That looks good. Can I have one too?"

"Of course."

Barbara watched as he made hers and noticed that he added extra bacon and three eggs. "Why has mine got more topping?"

Tommy placed a floury finger on the tip of her nose. "So you don't steal mine. Open the oven door would you? These should be ready in about twenty minutes."

"I can't wait."

She watched as he washed his hands then packed everything away. He dug around in one cupboard and pulled out two small wooden platters. "These should do us. Still thirsty?"

"Yeah."

After fetching two more beers, Tommy led her into his lounge. Two red leather Chesterfield sofas and a large wing chair were the only seats. Barbara sat on one of the couches and was mildly disappointed when Tommy thumped into the other one. Between two built-in bookcases, a large modern television hung on the wall above the fireplace. Tommy threw her the remote. "Find something you like while I light a fire."

"I'm not cold."

"Neither am I, but if we were to rely on this for heating, we would freeze to death. I thought it would add to the ambience of the room."

"Oh well, of course. This room has no ambience without it."

He frowned. "I think it's a very barren room. Much like the whole house. It never feels lived in. The fire helps."

Barbara took a sip of her beer. Tommy sounded sad as if he hated living here but did it because that was what was expected. He had abandoned his flat by the river and retreated to Belgravia after he had returned to work. Barbara could not blame him; the unit had too many reminders of his failings. But she was concerned that he did not have a sanctuary to come home to each night.

"Maybe you should move."

Tommy was kneeling at the fireplace and nearly bumped his head on the side as he turned to look at her. "Why would I move? It was not exactly a success last time."

"Sorry." Barbara wondered why she had spoken. She had not intended to say that and dredge up the past.

"No, don't be. Wherever I go, I will never escape myself."

"No, but one day I hope you learn to live with yourself."

"So do I. I'll check on our dinner. Find something to watch."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** um, yes, this story does continue, several more chapters in fact. Apologies to Boy George, Queen and Madonna.

* * *

Tommy returned five minutes later with the pizza. "Dinner's ready."

He glanced at the television. A cable music channel was playing a countdown of old 80s and 90s tunes. Tommy frowned at the poor quality of the video.

Barbara looked up. "Do you mind this? Or do you want the news?"

"What terrorism, potential war, natural disasters, and bus strikes? No, I think... is that George Michael? This will be far more amusing. I remember people with hair like that."

Barbara took her pizza then slid from the sofa onto the floor and put the platter on the ground in front of her. She quickly cut it into slices, then leant back against the sofa seat and proceeded to pick a slice up and eat it. Tommy felt awkward sitting on his couch trying to balance the platter and use his knife and fork to cut bite-sized pieces of pizza.

"May I join you down there?"

"Yeah, of course. It's your floor."

"Hmm. I've always thought of it as being something to walk on." He felt uncomfortable as she studied the way he kicked off his shoes and sat cross-legged next to her.

"Is this the first time you've ever eaten off the floor?" She gave him one of her biggest smiles, one of the ones that always made her eyes darker, and rather alluring. She did not smile nearly enough.

"No," he replied trying to hide his discomfort. She looked at him, lowering her head but raising her eyebrows. "Yes," he admitted.

"Thought so. It will do you good."

Tommy wondered how she worked that logic out, but he said nothing and emulated her behaviour. When he sat back against the couch and began to eat, he realised it was actually fun to sit back and watch the television while eating with his hands. He looked across and smiled at her. She raised her beer and toasted him.

They finished their meals quickly. Tommy returned the plates to the kitchen, throwing them in the dishwasher for tomorrow. He grabbed two more beers and returned to his lounge. He paused, leaning on the door jamb. Barbara was still sitting on the floor but was now waving her arms in the air and singing along with Madonna.

"I was beat, incomplete, I'd been had, I was sad and blue, but you made me feel, yeah, you made me feel, shiny and new. Hoo, like a virgin, touched for the very first time. Like a vir-err-errr-err-gin, when your heart beats, next to... Oh, Sir. Sorry, I was just... being silly."

"Don't be sorry. It's not silly. You sing beautifully. And what happened to Tommy?"

"I forgot."

He handed her a beer and sat down beside her. Being together like this, she made him feel shiny and new. He grinned at her as images ran through his mind about how he would make love to her. He wondered if maybe she was a virgin. Probably not, but she would likely be as nervous as one. He would be. All his experience with other women in the past meant nothing. Barbara was unique and making love to her would be different. He was not sure how, given the physical act was the same, but he knew somehow that it would be like nothing he had ever experienced before. The only problem was, it was unlikely to ever happen. Barbara would never let him cross that emotional barrier between them.

Barbara cocked her head. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You were staring at me. Do I have bacon in my teeth?"

Tommy shook his head and sipped his beer. "No. No, you don't."

"Then I was right. You think I am mad sitting and singing with the TV."

"Not at all. I sometimes conduct classical music as I listen to it."

"Do you? I always imagined you doing that."

Tommy laughed. "And I always imagined you singing with the radio. So we are even."

"Yeah. Good. I like being even with you."

"Hmm, me too," he replied hesitantly, trying to fathom her meaning.

"I think I've had a few too many of these." She clinked the top of her bottle against his bottle. "Cheers and thank you for rescuing me tonight."

"I should thank you for rescuing me from my melancholic thoughts."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. It was nothing. Just me being too introspective." Her hip bumped him as her body continued its ungainly seated dance. "If you want to dance, Barbara, the floor's all yours."

"Nah, I'm not that drunk... yet. Oh! I love this song! You come and go, you come and go, karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon, you come and go, you come and go-o-o-o. Come on Tommy, sing!"

He shook his head. "Sorry, I don't know the words."

Barbara grunted but continued to sing, hamming it up as Tommy smiled and laughed with her. "So, if you won't sing, what about playing a game?"

Tommy sipped his beer. "What game? If it's some sort of drinking game, remember we still have to go to work in the morning."

"No, it's not, it's simple. When a song comes on, we tell each other what it reminds you of. It can be a person, or when you first heard it, or anything the song brings to mind."

"Like Rorschach but with music not ink?"

"I guess so. But aren't most of those ink tests about sex?"

Tommy laughed again. "I don't think they are supposed to be, but a lot of people have sex on their minds."

Barbara looked at him. "Yeah, they do."

Tommy felt his ears tingle. Had she read his earlier thoughts? Surely not. "I don't think I will have many associations with 80s music," he said trying to divert the conversation back on track. "Pop music was never my thing."

A new song started. "Rubbish. Everyone has heard it and has some connections to it. See this one? Another One Bites the Dust. It always reminds me of all the crappy Sergeants and DIs I was partnered with who couldn't put up with me."

"But not me? I'm still your partner, so I don't count."

"Yeah, you are. And you're not crappy. You're won... definitely not crappy."

She smiled at him in a way that made him want to lay his head on her shoulder. He must be a tad tipsy too. She waved her hand asking him for his association to the song. "Er, it always reminds me of my failed relationships."

"But not me? I'm still your partner."

"Yeah, you are." This time they both laughed at the parody of their earlier conversation.

For the next half hour, and two more beers, they sat against the sofa and exchanged stories about what the songs meant to them. Some were funny stories. Others were about times at school or their friends. When the music became softer and more romantic, Barbara blushed and struggled for stories. Tommy was relieved - most of the songs reminded him of how he felt about her at different times.

"Another beer, Barbara?"

She shook her head. "I shouldn't. Oh to hell with it, one more, and then I should say goodnight."

When he returned from the kitchen, Barbara had turned off the television and was sitting close to the fire, her legs drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, and her chin on her knees. She stared at the dancing flames.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said accepting the offered beer. "They played a song that reminded me of Terry. I know I'm a bit drunk, but I don't want to think about that and spoil the night."

Tommy sat next to her. He wanted to put his arm around her and hold her, but instead, he sat as she did. "I understand. Some music reminds me of difficult moments or sad times in my life too."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, but Christmas is always hard, even after all these years. And tomorrow will be worse because I'm going to have a massive headache."

"There's aspirin in the drawer of your bedside table if you need it."

She turned her head and gave him a wry smile. "What are you saying, Tommy? That I can't handle a few beers?"

"Not at all. I'm just trying to be a good host."

"You are. I had a great evening."

"Me too."

"It started horribly, but it ended... It was worth getting wet. I wish we didn't have to work tomorrow. I know it's only a half day, but still."

"Me too. It would be perfect not to go back until the New Year."

"What time will you leave for Cornwall?"

Tommy was becoming mesmerised by the fire. He had told Barbara he was going to Howenstowe because he had not wanted her to worry. After tonight he owed it to her to be honest. "I'm not going this year. People were too nice. It was fake and made me feel quite isolated. I'd rather be alone here."

She looked at him with such sadness that he had to look away. He did not want her pity.

"Yeah, I get that. People mean well, but this time of year is the loneliest for people like us."

Tommy looked at her again. What he mistook for pity was understanding and empathy. Barbara always had a brave face, and always seemed to cope far better living alone than he did, but he could see in her eyes that loneliness was no stranger. She had once told him she dealt with it by finding something else. Maybe this year, he could be that something.

"What about you, Barbara? What are you doing for Christmas?"

"Me?" Barbara gave a short laugh. "Oh, I splurged this year. I even bought a frozen turkey dinner and a small pudding with some custard for Christmas Day."

"And a party hat?"

"Didn't think of that."

"Come here instead."

"It's not that bad, Tommy. You don't have to feel sorry for me."

"I don't. Not in the least. But what's the point of both of us being alone in separate houses when we can be alone together?"

Barbara frowned. "Did that make sense?"

"More or less. But I mean it. We can go to your flat tomorrow after work to get your clothes then you can come over here. Why don't we have Christmas Eve dinner together and spend Christmas Day doing something different? Otherwise, you know me; I would probably just listen to music, read and slowly get very drunk. And on Boxing Day, we could go on a picnic."

"Boxing Day? A picnic? You want me to stay until Boxing Day?"

"Why not? Say yes, Barbara. Think of it as community service if you have to."

She frowned then lowered her head. "I don't have to. I enjoy spending time with you."

"Then you'll come?"

Barbara hesitated then nodded. "Yeah, why not?"

"No reason. No reason at all." Tommy put his arm around her shoulder and smiled when she leant into him slightly.


	3. Chapter 3

Barbara's head throbbed as the light of a new day crept through the window. She had forgotten to draw the curtains. Rolling over and hiding under her pillow only made the ache echo around her head. She sighed knowing she had to face the day at some stage. Sitting up slowly, she found the aspirin in the bedside table drawer and decided to double the recommended dose. The tablets were dissolvable, so she hunted for a glass in the ensuite. Two large glasses of water followed the one with the aspirin.

After a long hot shower, she felt vaguely human. Despite drinking much more than she had intended, she had enjoyed the evening with Tommy. It had been easy to accept his invitation to stay over Christmas, but now, more sober, she doubted it was a good idea.

"Good morning," Tommy said far too cheerfully when she entered his kitchen. "Coffee? And what would you like for breakfast?"

"Coffee, strong and black with a side order of coffee."

"Ah, sore head?"

"I can't drink like you." Tommy ground some beans. It sounded like a thousand jackhammers. She put her hands over her ears. "Instant is fine. It's quieter."

Ignoring her, he tamped down the coffee and screwed the portafilter onto its mount. The machine whirred then the tantalising aroma of a dark roast espresso reached her. Tommy looked over and smiled sympathetically. "I think you need something stronger than instant this morning. Sorry if I was a bad influence."

"How can you be so chipper?"

"Practice. And three big glasses of water before I went to bed. Anyway, tonight I promise moderation."

"About that. Maybe we shouldn't change our original plans."

Tommy's face fell and his eyes iced over. "I see."

"No, you don't, Tommy. I just... feel so bad that all I want to do is sleep. I can't repeat last night."

"You don't have to, I promise. What about we go to your place on the way to work and pick up your things? If we're late, we can blame the transport strike and say I drove over to collect you. That way we can come straight back here when they dismiss us this afternoon. Neither of us is on call, so unless half of London gets murdered, we don't have to go back until after New Year."

Barbara swallowed hard. She could not be in the same house as Tommy for a week! It would be too much strain on her nerves trying to hide her desires. Last night had been bad enough. "I can't stay until New Year."

"You can if you'd like. But this afternoon you can sleep while I go out and buy a few provisions. By dinner time you will feel much better. We can toast Christmas with soft drinks if you prefer. I don't have to drink if that's what's worrying you."

Barbara knew that Tommy wanted her to stay, and she wanted it too. Perhaps too much. She nodded. "Okay, but only until Boxing Day. And two beers maximum for me tonight. Promise?"

He grinned at her. "I will lock my fridge if you try to have any more."

Even though she knew it was a joke, she turned to look at his fridge door. It was a huge machine, and she would not have been surprised to see a PIN lock. Tommy kept grinning at her as he passed her a second large mug of steaming coffee.

She lowered her head and begrudgingly nodded. "Ta."

* * *

The morning went slowly. There was an office morning tea and a boring speech from Hillier thanking everyone for a year of hard work and reliable results. Stuart dropped by with boxes of chocolates, and Winston left candy canes on everyone's desks along with the envelopes containing gift cards from Santa that Tommy bought every year.

Tommy had not seen Barbara for much of the morning. She had stayed at her desk finishing a report and nursing her hangover. It was unusual for her to suffer unless she was troubled. He hoped that she might feel relaxed enough over their Christmas together to tell him about whatever was burdening her. He wanted to be there for her, to help in any way he could.

He looked at his watch. Tommy knew he was impatient. They still had hours to fill before they could leave. He was excited and nervous about having Barbara stay. He was looking forward to the company, and someone to share Christmas with, but he was also scared that he would do or say something that would upset her. Tommy sighed, knowing the real cause of his anxiety - he was afraid that after six months of finding excuses, he would finally find the words to admit his feelings only for Barbara to laugh, or gently tell him he was just a friend to her.

Hillier came through the office just before one o'clock wishing everyone a safe and happy Christmas. Once you had shaken his hand, you were free to leave. Tommy stood near the door of his office and shook his head as eager young officers vied for handshakes.

As Hillier worked his way towards him, Tommy came into the squad room and stood near Winston and Barbara. Hillier shook their hands and offered bland seasonal platitudes.

"Heading to Cornwall, Lynley?" Hillier asked him when it was finally his turn.

"No, I'm staying in London this year."

"Alone? Would you care to have Christmas lunch with us? Lady Penelope would love to see you. And I think Elizabeth Magellan is joining us."

Tommy suppressed a groan. Elizabeth was a well-known socialite with the personality of a kid goat - eager, playful, hungry and greedy for more than her share, but without any of the cuteness that went with baby animals. "Thank you, Sir, that's very kind, but I am entertaining a special friend this year."

Hillier raised his eyebrows. "A woman? Ooh, lucky her eh? Well, enjoy it, Lynley."

Tommy resented Hillier's assumption that he was planning a Christmas of debauchery. He also noticed Winston flash a concerned, sympathetic glance at Barbara. Her face remained completely neutral, but he could see her neck blushing. So, that was interesting. Did his constable suspect Barbara might be upset by hearing he was entertaining a woman or did he know something? Either way, Tommy was elated. It meant his feelings for Barbara might be reciprocated after all if only he could find a way to tell her.

* * *

Barbara took Tommy at his word and headed straight to bed. He promised to wake her at six o'clock so she could shower and assist with dinner. In her room, she stripped off her clothes and bra and climbed into bed. She yawned and was asleep within seconds of her head settling into the soft, feather pillow.

"Barbara? Time to wake up."

Barbara rolled over to face the voice. "So soon?"

"Afraid so. I could let you sleep until just before dinner is ready if you'd prefer."

"No. No, I'll get up. Thanks for waking me." Barbara finally opened her eyes. Tommy was standing in the doorway with just his head in the room. His smile seemed to extend right across his face.

"My pleasure. See you soon."

He disappeared, and Barbara stretched. She suddenly realised that she had no top on. Where had the sheet been? Had Tommy's smile been because she had been lying there half naked? What must he have thought? She rolled onto her stomach, buried her head in the pillow and screamed.

* * *

Tommy was unaware that Barbara was lying upstairs mortified at the thought he may have seen more than she had intended. He had noticed that she did not have a shirt on only by her bare shoulders above the sheets. He scolded himself for wondering if she had been completely naked. These were not thoughts he should be having about his friend, but they were ones he was struggling to suppress. In recent months, Barbara had been barely out of his thoughts, dreams and even fantasies. As he watched her wake up, he knew it was something he wanted to watch every day, but not from the doorway. He wanted to be beside her, holding her, stroking her, kissing her, making love...

He shook his head to erase those thoughts. If she walked in now, it would be very embarrassing trying to explain why peeling carrots aroused him so much. They did not. She did. But saying that would be worse. He wondered if maybe Barbara had been right. Maybe these few days were not a good idea. On the other hand... Tommy took a deep breath. He had to convince her before he made any wild declarations or even kissed her. She had to see that he loved her. Telling her would only work once she already knew it was true.

* * *

Barbara decided to dress up a bit for dinner. She put on her best black jeans and instead of runners pulled on stylish leather boots that she usually avoided because they made her feet sore. She tucked her jeans in the top, allowing the boots to show. Most of her shirts were plain, but she had one better one that she had bought at a sale. It was a deep forest green in a shiny, almost iridescent material that was horrible to iron. When she had grabbed it this morning, she thought it looked a bit Christmassy and was worth the laundry dramas. Now, looking in the mirror, it looked a bit too businesslike and severe. It was saying she was back in her protective mode, which was not the message she wanted to send. Rummaging in her bag, she found a white v-neck t-shirt. She put that on with the shirt over it, leaving several buttons at the front undone. Finally, she rolled the sleeves up a bit to give it a more casual air.

In the kitchen, Tommy was fussing with pots on the stove and a dish in the oven. When she walked in, he looked over and grinned at her. "You look very nice."

Barbara blushed and bit her bottom lip. "Ta. I thought Christmas Eve dinner with an earl deserved a bit more than my usual fare."

"I'm honoured. I'm almost done here. Dinner at seven okay?"

"Yeah, good."

"Make yourself at home. Do you want to sit in the lounge? Do you want your first beer yet?"

"Nah, I'll wait. You've gone to a lot of trouble here."

"Not really. The hardest part was coordinating the times. I might go and get changed. There's nothing to do for ten minutes." He pulled a tea towel from the front of his trousers and began to unbutton his shirt. Barbara tried not to look. He tossed his shirt into the basket in the adjoining laundry then walked past her on the way to his room. He was a bit soft around the middle these days, but the sight of his naked chest prompted sweet memories... and wicked thoughts. If this continued, the weekend was going to be exceedingly trying, but not without reward.

* * *

Tommy had not meant to be provocative, but he had seen the fire in Barbara's eyes. He smiled to himself all the way to his room. He was beginning to believe that she did return his feelings, at least in part. He wanted to take this slowly, but he promised himself that by New Year, he would tell her how he felt about her.

He had intended to wear a casual outfit but as Barbara had made an effort, he would too. He stood looking at his wardrobe. He did not want to overdress and make her feel awkward, or underdress and have the same effect. He decided on jeans, a good blue and shirt with subtle checks, and a navy linen jacket. He was not fond of the coat as it creased easily making him too dishevelled, but it would look casually elegant for tonight.

"Sorry, it took longer than I thought."

"No problem." Barbara was staring at him, not as his partner or friend but almost as a lover would. Her eyes seemed to undress him, and her shy smiled hinted that she liked what she saw.

Tommy drank her gaze as long as he politely could. "Why don't you go into the dining room? I'll bring in the food."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** you get your chapter early today because I am travelling to my hometown for my High School Reunion Weekend. Don't ask how many years. The answer is too many.

* * *

Barbara was astounded. His dining room had been transformed into a winter wonderland. The long, heavy mahogany table was half-covered with a crisp, gold, linen tablecloth. In the centre of the uncovered half of the table a small green artificial Christmas tree stood on a bed of white fake snow. Decorated with red and silver baubles, it reminded her of the large tree on Piccadilly Circus.

Two places were set opposite each other. Fine white China soup bowls sat on matching plates. In the bowl was a green linen serviette folded into an elf's hat. Balanced on the top was a chocolate wrapped in red foil. Tommy had skilfully averted her worst fear by arranging the cutlery in a way she knew would probably be frowned on by his mother and his peers. On another bed of fake snow in the centre between the settings, four thick red candles with small gold reindeer embossed on them sat unlit either side of a quirky ornament with a rotund Santa falling out the back of his sleigh. Barbara pulled out her phone and took a picture of the elf's hat, then began to photograph the tree and the table.

It was Christmassy, yet also seemed romantic. She sighed wishing it was more than just his good taste and skilful attention to detail calculated to make her feel welcome. That part had worked. Too much so. She almost felt wanted.

She was still staring at it when Tommy came in behind her carrying a large tureen. He was wearing a red Santa hat that flopped over his eye in the same way his hair often did. After safely putting the tureen on the sideboard, he dimmed the lights, then lit the candles. Their glow bathed the room in a soft golden light that magnified the romantic aspect threefold.

"Is this normal in Belgravia or did you do all this for me?" she asked taking a few more photos.

"Hmm, for us," he said as he placed a Santa hat on her head. "We needed party hats, so we had to have a party."

Barbara laughed. "This is wonderful. Thank you." She turned away and quickly wiped a tear from her eye. No one had ever been to this amount of bother for her.

"I hope you don't mind but I chose a wine from my cellar." Tommy showed her a bottle with a pretty picture of an Italian villa and rolling hills. "From Tuscany. It's a light red."

"Perfect," Barbara said hoping to sound convincing. She took a photo of him.

Tommy put out his hand for her camera. "Let me take one of us. I've got longer arms."

Barbara knew the photo would show her face was as red as her hat. When he draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in against him, she had looked up at him, not the camera. She could delete it later before he saw the adoring look she knew she must have given him. For the second photo he looked at her. His face was also red, and his eyes danced with happiness. Maybe... She closed her eyes and hoped he kissed her.

* * *

Tommy wanted to kiss Barbara so badly that his lips tingled and his groin ached. If he did, dinner would be wasted. He reminded himself of his promise. He wanted her to see that he loved her through his actions. "We should eat, before this gets cold."

Tommy pulled out her chair. Barbara sat. He noticed her holding her hands awkwardly in her lap, so he chatted to relax her. "I hope you don't mind breaking with tradition a bit and having the main meal tonight."

"No. We can pretend we're European."

"Technically, we are. From a continental plate viewpoint at least. It never ceases to amuse me that Icelanders, all that way away, consider themselves European, but the English do not."

Barbara gave a short, polite laugh. "It's that large body of water between us. That twenty miles makes all the difference."

"It will be interesting when we get another ice age. A land border with France."

Barbara threw her hands up as if alarmed. "Heaven forbid!"

Now Tommy laughed. "Indeed, but let's not worry about centuries of politics on Christmas Eve."

"So what will we do to fill in tomorrow? Usually it is presents and cooking and eating and drinking then everyone sleeping it off."

"I have something else in mind."

"Being mysterious?"

"Not really. I will tell you tomorrow. I think you will approve. Tonight, we eat."

"But not drink? Are we allowed to be merry?"

He was pleased that she was able to joke. Her headache must have improved. "As merry as you want. But if you get too rowdy, I might have to arrest you for disturbing the peace. Belgravia is a very quiet neighbourhood full of brooding earls and old spinsters, you know."

"Fancy that. Well, when I'm around, earls don't brood."

"No, they don't." Tommy ached to tell her he loved her and the way she soothed his soul. "I'm glad you're staying. I am really looking forward to the next few days."

"Me too."

Tommy draped a white linen serviette over his arm to prevent his jacket being splashed. He poured two glasses of wine before he took the soup bowls and ladled two generous servings. After carefully placing the bowls on the plates, he added a dollop of sour cream and sprinkled on some paprika and cayenne pepper. "Hot chestnut soup. I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," she said as Tommy put a small warm bread roll on her her plate.

Tommy sat then raised his glass. "I'm happy you agreed to spend Christmas with me, Barbara. Here's to a wonderful, fun-filled few days."

"Here, here."

"And a spectacular New Year."

Barbara gave him a warm smile reinforced by a mischievous glint in her eye. "Happy Christmas, Tommy. But don't get too far ahead of yourself."

He grinned at her. "I'm still hoping you'll change your mind and stay until New Year. Merry Christmas, Barbara, and thank you for being my friend for another year."

"It's easy enough most of the time. Although in August you were a bit crabby."

"August? Really?" Tommy tried to think why. Then he remembered. He had invited her to go to Cornwall for the week they had off and she had politely declined. Now was not the time to explain. "Well, I'm not crabby now."

"You cooked this?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"I just had to boil some chicken stock, add a few spices and wine, then sauté some chestnuts."

"I burn toast remember. It's wonderful. I've never had Chestnut Soup before."

Tommy was pleased that she enjoyed it so much. If she was impressed by the soup, he hoped she would like the next course. He cleared the bowls. "Ready for the next course?"

Barbara nodded. "Do you need help?"

"No, just a few minutes."

* * *

"That's so cute!" Barbara looked at her dish then at Tommy who looked rather embarrassed.

"I'm not sure cute was my goal."

"It should have been. It really looks like a tree." Barbara took a photo. Tommy had layered strips of smoked salmon in the shape of a fir tree and decorated the branches with dots of dressing that looked like Christmas baubles. Around the base of the tree he had scattered dill as if it were discarded needles. "It's a shame to eat it."

Tommy now beamed at her. "But you will."

"Of course." Barbara cut a delicate portion, not wanting to look greedy. It almost melted in her mouth and the dressing had much more bite than she expected. "It's delicious! What's that dressing?"

"Wasabi mayonnaise."

"Did you make it?"

"Maybe."

Barbara finished her salmon faster than Tommy. She sat trying not to look guilty as he watched her over the top of his fork. "I was hungry," she eventually said in defence.

"Good, because we still have main course and dessert."

"If you cook like this all the time, maybe I should stay for New a Year."

"If that's all it takes, I will prepare you a daily feast."

Barbara laughed, mainly to hide her embarrassment. She had not meant to sound as if she was using her presence as a bribe. "No, I'd end up the size of small horse. I don't need you to cook for me, Tommy. That's not why I'm here."

"I know. It's my sparkling personality, charm and..." Tommy took a sip of his wine.

"If modesty is the word you're searching for, you need a new dictionary."

They both laughed.

* * *

The next course was an experiment. Tommy had bought half a duck earlier in the week as he was not fond of turkey. For himself, he had intended to roast it with vegetables. With Barbara, he wanted to impress her with something fancier, and vaguely remembered an episode from one of Nigella's lazy cooking shows. He opened the oven door and was pleased with the result.

He plated the duck and the vegetables then drizzled over the sauce that had caramelised in the bottom of the pan.

Barbara was reviewing her photos when he returned. He wondered if she would read his feelings and desires in his expression. "Tommy's Marmalade Duck with Honey-glazed Root Vegetables," he announced, mimicking the pompous way cooking shows introduced their meals.

Barbara immediately took a photo. "It smells divine."

"I only hope it tastes that way too."

He need not have feared. Barbara devoured the meal as if she had been starving for a week. "Oh, Tommy, that was... magnificent."

She almost groaned the words making Tommy shiver. He grinned, partly at the compliment, but mostly because they were words he would love to her her moan under totally different circumstances. Under him. He felt his entire body flush with heat. It would be so easy to stand, walk around the table, pull her up into his arms and kiss her senseless. He closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths.

Tommy's final course was simple. He had bought an artisan pudding from his favourite deli. He placed it on the table next to a jug of sauce he had made from his memory of his grandmother's secret sauce. It did not come close to being as good, but he was still pleased with the result. He stood beside her and poured a generous quantity of brandy over it, then set it alight.

"Show off."

He flicked the pom-pom on his hat back over his shoulder and snorted with faux indignation. "It's traditional."

Barbara passed him the large knife as they watched the blue flames dance over the pudding. "It's lovely."

Tommy heard her voice catch. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly. "Are you okay?"

She nodded; small furious nods used by people trying to reassure someone when they were too overcome to speak.

"Barbara? Have I upset you?"

"No! It's just... no one has made an effort to make Christmas special for me since Terry died. I was thinking of him, and my parents, and the years I wasted being bitter."

Tommy knelt down and put his arm around her. He softly brushed the tears from her face then turned his body so she could bury her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her until her breathing slowed.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. I've spoiled your wonderful dinner."

"No, you haven't. It's good to release the things that poison us. Thank you for trusting me enough to explain."

"You don't think I should have been over this years ago?"

"No. You've avoided it. That's not the same as handling it. Hiding away so that no one can make an effort and you can reinforce your idea is not confronting it. Now you've told me, it will never have the same hold over you again."

"Thank you." Barbara returned her face to his shoulder. This time her arms also held him.

Tommy could have stayed like that forever. It was Barbara's growling stomach that broke the spell.

"I take it you're ready for dessert?"

She grinned shyly at him. "Yes, please."

Tommy gave her a double helping with extra sauce. "The pudding is from a local deli, but I made the sauce from my grandmother's secret recipe."

Barbara sampled it. "Ooh, it's good. Really good. What's the secret?"

"Ah, see it's a _family_ secret. I can only tell you if you agree to marry me."

Barbara stopped eating, her spoon hovering halfway between the bowl and her mouth. Even Tommy was shocked by his statement. They both stared uncertainly at each other until a big smile broke out across Barbara's face. "Haha. That's okay. You don't have to tell me. You can just make it for me each year."

Tommy nodded and smiled as he watched her eat. "I will."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** do not expect a chapter tomorrow, our big reunion party is tonight.

* * *

Despite his protests, Barbara insisted on helping Tommy with the washing up. With too many items for his dishwasher, she took charge filling the sink and scrubbing the pots. She shoved a tea towel into his chest.

"You can dry."

"I would have left them until the morning."

Barbara tutted. "And by then all the sauce would have set on the tin and your poor dishwasher would never cope."

He grinned at her. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably throw them away and go out and buy new ones."

Tommy tried to look wounded, but then laughed. "Don't be cheeky." He playfully flicked her on her tail with his tea towel.

"Why you!" She responded by flicking soapy water at him until, laughing hard, he put his hands up in surrender.

When they finished they retired to his lounge room where Tommy lit another fire.

"You have a tree here too."

"Only a little one."

Barbara wandered over to the side table where he had erected a small silver tree, decorated with red and green tinsel. There was a single small box under it labelled 'Barbara'. "I'll be back in a minute," she told him before racing up to her room. She had bought him a small gift and even in her haste and hangover fog of the morning had remembered to pack it.

When she returned he was pouring a whiskey from the decanter on his sideboard. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine. Bathroom break." She hated lying, but did not want to explain.

"Nightcap?"

"A small one."

When Tommy turned, Barbara surreptitiously placed her present next to his then sat on the sofa. He handed her the drink and sat beside her. "Cheers. Not sitting on my floor tonight?"

"Cheers. That floor gets me into trouble."

Tommy coughed. "Sorry, that went down the wrong way. I rather liked sitting down there by the fire."

Barbara shook her head, but slid off the seat, and on her knees moved towards the fire. She looked behind her. "Joining me?"

"Yes." Tommy smiled and followed, sitting much closer than he needed to be. Barbara could feel the warmth of his body beside her. She closed her eyes and leant slightly closer.

They sipped their drinks in silence. "It's very peaceful watching the flames," she said after a few minutes.

"Yes, it is."

"So, what time do I need to be ready in the morning?"

"Are you going to bed?"

Tommy's body tensed. He sounded disappointed, and a little alarmed. She shook her head. "Not just yet. I was forward planning. I wondered what time and what to wear."

His shoulders relaxed. "I thought we'd leave about eight. Jeans, comfortable shoes and a jacket would be best."

"Damn, so it's not Christmas lunch at the Savoy."

Tommy's face froze. "Is that what you were hoping? A fancy lunch somewhere?"

"No, of course not. I would be terrified. Besides, we had the nicest possible Christmas dinner. I really did appreciate that, Tommy. More than you know."

"I didn't want to share our Christmas meal with anyone."

"Me either."

Tommy took her empty glass and put it on the hearth beside his tumbler. He then stretched out his legs and rolled on his side towards her. He used his elbow to support his weight and rested his face in his palm, his fingers running up the side of his face. He looked more tranquil than she had seen him look in months.

"Come down here with me."

His voice was soft, almost seductive. Barbara straightened her legs, but stayed on her back, her palms on the floor behind her.

"Tomorrow is a favour for a friend, but I think you will enjoy it," he said.

"Yeah. It's nice to just..."

"Mmm?" Tommy put his hand near her knee.

Barbara turned to look at him. "Not be alone." It was not something she liked to admit, but she knew he understood. When he nodded, hIs Santa hat tumbled over his eye, so she leant over and tucked it behind his ear. She rolled on her side and lay back mirroring his position, but steadying herself by putting her other hand on the floor between them.

Tommy moved his hand next to hers so that their fingertips were just touching. "Yes, but you can be even more alone if you're not with the right person."

Barbara nodded. "I am with the right person." She lay back on the floor facing the roof. They had both hinted enough tonight. If she had read him correctly, and Tommy had any intention of taking this in the direction she wanted, now was his chance.

* * *

Tommy shuffled closer so that his chest was just touching her shoulder. Never in his life had he wanted to kiss someone so much. Every cell in his body wanted him to kiss her then make love to her. His promise to prove his love first now felt like a noose slowly choking him.

"I am too."

He leant down and brushed his lips against her cheek. It satisfied nothing, but at least he had the brief feel of her soft skin against his lips, and had given her a hint of more to come. Although they were barely touching, he felt her heart racing. When he had moved closer she had stopped breathing. As he pulled away, she let out a long sigh. He could not decide whether it was frustration or pleasure. Barbara's face was flushed. Her eyes were soft and happy. It took all his breeding and strength not to lean back down and kiss her properly. He needed a distraction.

"I almost forgot." Tommy hopped up onto his knees.

"What, Tommy?" Barbara sat up clearly startled by his change of pace.

He grinned at her then knee-walked over to the tree. To his surprise, his present had been joined by another. He picked both up and moved back to her. "We won't have time in the morning and I wanted to give you this."

Barbara took the small rectangular box wrapped in thick gold paper. "Thank you, Tommy, but I didn't expect anything. There's something there for you too."

Tommy held up a square box wrapped in thin paper covered in Santas. "I found it. Thank you. So who goes first?"

Barbara laughed. "You. It's nothing special."

"I'm sure that's not true." He carefully opened the wrapping and folded it neatly before looking inside a plain cardboard box. "It's my old aftershave. The one that they haven't sold for nearly a year. Where did you get it?"

"They had it on sale after last Christmas. I bought two bottles. I was going to give you one for your birthday, but I forgot all about them."

"Brilliant! I wish I had bought some. I miss this. I prefer it to my current one."

"Yeah, I always liked that smell on you."

"Did you?" Tommy put the bottle safely on the table. Her eyes smouldered with what he read as desire. He grinned at her, not because of the look, but the thought of her sitting next to him all these years and secretly noticing his scent. It seemed rather erotic and he wondered if he should describe to her what her scent did to him. Should he tell her how her shampoo always reminded him of holding her close after the incident in the pub, and how, despite her pain, he had never felt so alive.

He decided just to thank her. "It is a special present. And I will remind you about the other bottle before my next birthday." He moved so that he was close to her then bent forward and gave her another quick kiss on her cheek. This time he dared to move much closer to her mouth. "Open yours."

Barbara was not as neat. In fact, when the paper began to tear, she helped it, ripping open the paper to reveal a velvety blue box. She looked at him. "Tommy?"

"Open it. It won't bite."

* * *

Barbara's hands trembled as she found the clip. Her nerves were on edge after his two kisses. Even though they had been innocent gestures between friends, her skin still burnt where his lips had been. Her body was beginning to betray her and tingled with his proximity. Deep inside she felt a pleasurable tension building. She wanted to feel his body next to her, around her, inside her. Contrary to any rational arguments about why it was a bad idea, if Tommy wanted to take it further, she would not only accept it, but would probably turn it into a shag-a-thon. She laughed. He would be horrified at the term.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing. I'm just... nervous. I... wasn't expecting anything."

Barbara lifted the lid and gasped. A single ruby the size of her thumbnail sparkled in the firelight. It was attached as if by magic to a thin gold chain. "Oh, Tommy! It's beautiful. It's real isn't it? I can't accept that."

He smiled softly. "Yes, it's real. Why not? It is beautiful... Just like you."

Barbara lowered her head. "I'm not. Don't..."

Tommy gently lifted her chin so that she was forced to look at him. His fingers felt warm and smelled of marmalade. He shook his head in soft reprimand. "You are to me. You're a beautiful person inside and, to put it bluntly, you have an incredibly sexy exterior too. So yes, you can wear it."

Barbara felt her face flush red. The skin tightened and she wondered if blood might burst through her skin and drip into his fingers. No one had ever said she was sexy before, and she had never expected that from Tommy. Her pleasurable tension morphed into outright need. "Tommy..."

"Let me put it on." His fingers were shaking as they brushed her neck. He clipped the clasp shut but did not remove his hands, resting them lightly on her shoulders.

She felt a light kiss at the base of her neck. "Ohhh..."

"Mmm." He kissed her neck again, this time under her left ear. Tommy pulled her back against him so that she was looking up at him. His face was red and his eyes soft, the wide pupils almost filling them. He looked at the necklace, then traced around it with his finger. "It suits you."

Barbara felt goosebumps rise everywhere. His finger lingered on her chest making a lazy semi-circle under the necklace. Barbara looked up expectantly. Now was his moment, and she willed him to stop stalking and seize it. "Tommy?"

He smiled and withdrew his finger. "I promised myself I would behave. That I would wait until New Year. Tell me to stop."

"What if I don't want you to stop?"

"I love you, Barbara. I know you won't believe me, or will think that this is just a whim, or that you are just the latest in a line of women, but you're not. This is real. That's why I wanted to wait, until I had demonstrated my love to you. So you knew it was genuine."

"You have demonstrated it, Tommy. Time and time again."

"Really?"

Barbara caressed the back of his hand. "Yes. The way you look at me lately. Wanting to spend time together. We don't even argue much now, it's just banter. I sensed it, but thought it was just wishful thinking. But last night, and that dinner just now, and your tenderness when I told you about Terry. I believe it. I sort of can't, but I do. Does that make sense?"

"Perfectly." Tommy was smiling as he looked down at her. "And... you don't mind?"

"No. Why would I? I've been in love with you so long that I can't remember a time when I didn't love you."

"You love me?" His face lit up. Could he really be that blind to not have noticed?

She laughed softly. "Yes, I do, but if you haven't realised that by now then I don't know how to prove it either."

"You don't have to prove it. You're the one who's always looked after me. I just..." He shrugged.

"Struggle to believe anyone could love you?"

He looked deep into her eyes. "Yes."

"We're a great pair. I never believed until the last few months that someone like you would ever love me... I didn't think I deserved it."

"You do. You deserve someone so much better than me."

She gave him a playful grin. "Maybe, but it's you I want."

Tommy laughed then grinned at her the way he sometimes did. The lopsided, loving way that melted her heart and set fire to her entire body. "I want you too," he said in such an intense way that Barbara was beginning to think she might spontaneously combust before he kissed her.

"So?"

Tommy frowned. "What?"

"So aren't you going to kiss me?"

"Oh, that. Yes. Yes, I think I will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** sorry for the delay. Real life work obligations (yes, unfortunately I do have to pay my bills) and a small computer fire conspired against me. I ended up splitting this chapter in two as it became a little more frivolous than I originally intended. Next part tomorrow, hopefully.

* * *

Tommy woke with Barbara in his arms. His hips ached from the hard floor and he was grateful for the cushions he had pulled down from the sofa to rest their heads. The clock on the mantle told him it was time to get ready. He kissed her forehead lightly. "Merry Christmas, Barbara. Time to get up."

"Urgh. Morning. Merry Christmas. Are you sure the clock isn't wrong?"

Tommy pulled her closer. "Quite sure."

She nestled against his chest. "But this is nice. I want to stay here."

"My back and hips tell me I need to get up."

With great effort and considerable grunting, Barbara sat up. She looked down at him and smiled. "Come on then."

Tommy struggled to sit up. His back ached and his arm had gone numb. "Tonight I insist on sleeping in a bed."

Barbara nodded as she patted her lips and mouth. "Is my mouth swollen?"

Tommy smiled. "Yes, mine too. I think it happens when you kiss like that for hours."

She yawned. "Does It? I've never done that before. But it was definitely worth it."

"It was. Now, shower then coffee or vice verse?"

"Coffee."

* * *

When Tommy had first kissed her, Barbara had assumed it would lead further. Smiling at the memory of his lips and tongue caressing her, tickling her, whispering his adoration, Barbara understood that not consummating their love had been far better. Her earlier passion had been overtaken by deep feelings of connection and love. So much had gone between them over the years that had created conflict, confusion and guilt for both. Their first tentative, shy kisses had begun an unspoken conversation where apologies, explanations, and confirmations of long held love were offered and countered. In the end, they had spent hours lying on the floor kissing in front of the fire - slowly, tenderly exploring each other, and strengthening their emotional connections.

"You look deep in thought," Tommy said as he handed her a steaming cup of coffee.

She heard a hint of uncertainty. "Just thinking that I feel as if you made love to me without..."

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. She knew he would not let it go unspoken. "Without?"

"Sex."

Tommy cuddled her. "Hmm, it was rather satisfying. And mutual." He kissed her neck just below her ear sending an electric buzz down her back. "You made love to me too," he whispered against her skin.

"Yeah, I guess I did." Barbara snuggled in his arms, balancing her coffee between them, enjoying the way his teeth nipped gently at the tense muscle that ran along her collarbone.

His mouth nibbled towards her shoulder. "We should have done this years ago."

Barbara shook her head. "We had to work to get to this point. We needed to fall in love with each other."

"Did we? I think that was there all the time."

Barbara bit her lip. "For you too?"

Tommy looked up and cupped her cheek in his palm. "Yes, but I didn't recognise it. I just knew you were the one person I needed, even if we never seemed to understand each other."

"We weren't ready to manage it or the consequences. Now, I think we can."

Tommy stroked her hair. "So do I. I could ring my friend and tell him we're not coming. We could spend all day in bed."

"Mmm, not a bad Christmas present, but you made a commitment."

He sighed heavily. "Yes, I suppose I did. I thought I would still be trying to prove myself."

"You don't have to, Tommy. You never did."

* * *

Tommy drove south and finally slowed on an isolated road outside Cobram. He was amused by the way Barbara was trying to hide her curiosity even though her head was darting left and right and she was stretching up in the seat to see more.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"I didn't ask."

"I know, but the way you're craning your neck, you'll end up in traction."

As they rounded a bend, their destination came into view. Tommy looked at Barbara and waited for her reaction.

"A circus?"

"A small one." Ahead of them was a large white canvas tent with faded orange and blue striped roof. To the side was a quintessential sideshow alley with mini ferris wheel, jumping castle, and booths with games they could not yet see.

"Who has a circus on Christmas Day? What's going on?" Barbara asked as they parked behind the row of trailers.

"My friend hired it as a treat for underprivileged children from some of the estates in London. Most of them have terrible home lives where their parents, if they exist, are addicts or in gaol. Others are refugees from Europe. Some have physical or intellectual challenges. I volunteered to help."

Barbara grinned at him. "High trapeze?"

"Most definitely not. Their tights are far too..."

"Revealing?"

"I was going to say restrictive."

"And you know this how?"

"Acting at Oxford. I once made an excellent Laertes in Hamlet." Barbara was still grinning at him. "What?"

"I'd like to see you in tights."

Tommy now grinned at her. "I shall store that fantasy for later reference. Here comes William. He's a social worker."

After a round of introductions and welcomes, William led them to a large tent where several people were rushing about getting changed in makeshift areas partitioned by sheets hung over ropes. "This is the Volunteer Tent," William explained. "There's tea and coffee at the end and change rooms here. The next tent is the dining room where we will serve lunch at noon. I've assigned you both to Table 17 which has ten children aged around seven. You just need to make sure they get fed and have some fun."

"And what about before lunch?"

William turned to Tommy. "You didn't tell Barbara? Brave man."

"Brave?" Barbara lowered her eyes at Tommy.

He could not help but laugh. "We are character actors."

He eyes narrowed a little more. "Which characters?"

William hit Tommy on the back. "Your outfits are over there in cubicle seven. There's a makeup stand at the far side of the tent. Angela will look after you. Just remember to have fun and I wish you both a rewarding and happy Christmas."

They shook William's hand before Barbara headed for their cubicle. Tommy followed, trying to hide his amusement.

Barbara frowned when she saw the costumes hanging on plastic hangers from a rope in the corner of the small cubicle. "That's not fair!"

Tommy circled his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. "Why not? I think you'll look sexy."

Barbara closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "And you like that idea?"

"Very much."

"Good. Then you wear it." She pulled from his arms.

"Barbara!"

She turned and smiled. "Gotcha."

"Why you..." Tommy chased her around the small area until she let him catch her. She turned in his arms and met his kiss with equal passion.

A couple of minutes later William interrupted them. "How do your costumes fit?"

Stifling laughter, Tommy answered. "Good. We'll be out in a minute or two."

Barbara leant over and whispered. "Are you going to watch me undress?"

Tommy nodded. "Every day for the rest of our lives."

* * *

Tommy felt a tad silly. Dressed in tuxedo trousers, a white shirt, and patent leather shoes he felt normal, but adding the heavy black cape lined with red silk and a red and yellow tie, he felt geeky. Barbara kissed him then waved his wand. "There you go, Harry, exemplus handsomus. Poof! Oh, yes," she said as she placed the oversized round glasses on his face, "very handsome indeed."

"I feel like a dork."

"Maybe they have one in the dining room."

"Aren't you the cheeky one? Your turn. You got to watch me change, it's only fair."

Tommy was pleased that they were changing together. It would help avoid any awkwardness when they prepared for bed later. He hung her coat and jeans up as she disrobed, her back facing at an angle to him. Her earlier bravado was replaced with slight nervousness but Tommy kept smiling to reassure her. His smile soon faded as she removed her t-shirt to stand only in her bra and knickers. She turned towards him. Her gunshot scars were streaked across her stomach and he understood it was a form of test. Despite everything, he suspected Barbara believed that when he saw her, he would lose interest.

"You're beautiful," he said looking her directly in the eyes. He bent down in front of her and took her hands which were hovering over the scars. They gripped him tightly. Leaning forward he kissed the largest, angriest tear in her skin. Her hands relaxed and he rubbed the back of them with his thumbs as he continued to kiss his way across her stomach.

"Tommy..."

"Mmm?"

"I have to get dressed. We have responsibilities."

* * *

Barbara rather liked the whip she carried. She gave it a few tests flicks in the vague direction of a smiling Tommy.

"Careful, my love. You don't want to damage the merchandise," he warned.

His cheeky remark earns him a light lash on his thigh. "I might get used to this."

Tommy rubbed his leg. "Not one of my fantasies, but you do look particularly alluring in that outfit."

Barbara bowed and caught her shiny black top hat before it fell. Her outfit was not outlandish. She had seen other ringmistress costumes at fancy dress parties that were far more revealing. William had wisely avoided the black fishnets, tight skirt and thigh-high boots in favour of tight black trousers, knee high shiny boots and a traditional gold-trimmed red jacket that had three large gold buttons down the front and a severe cut at the waist leading to two long tails.

At the makeup station, Tommy had the jagged Harry Potter scar painted on his forehead while Barbara was given two rosy red cheeks and bright red lips. William escorted them to the sideshow alley. In a small roped off area Voldemort was smoking a cigarette.

"Harry, meet Voldemort, also known as Jim. Jim, Harry here also answers to Tommy, and this is his... friend, Barbara."

"Nice to meet you. Want a fag?"

"No thanks," Tommy said as they shook hands. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Every half hour we fight to the death. Of course you always win."

Tommy turned to William. "And Barbara?"

"She's your spruiker. She will direct the kids to you, whip up a bit of support, and act as a narrator."

Barbara groaned. "Whip up support. Was that deliberate?"

William grinned. "Maybe..."

"Stop flirting with my girlfriend." Barbara had to check Tommy was smiling.

William turned to Barbara. "I don't know, just because he's paid for all this, he thinks he owns the place."

The two men laughed. "Right, the buses are due in about 15 minutes. I suggest you work out your routine. After lunch there's no show, just playing with the kids from your table, escorting them around and making sure they have fun on the rides and games."

Jim stubbed out his cigarette. "I'm just going to the bog. Back in a minute."

Barbara raised her eyebrows at Tommy. "You paid for this?"

"Hmm. I'm a major sponsor, yes. Jim works in an Essex estate. He approached me about three years ago. This is the biggest event so far."

"I'm impressed. I thought your friend was going to be a toff, but he's nice. Now what on Earth am I supposed to say?"

"Oh, you'll work it out. You've never been short of a word."

Tommy ducked out of range of her whip just in time.


	7. Chapter 7

Not M rated, but I included a semi-treat for poor Tess... Merry Christmas... everyone.

* * *

Barbara stood on a small platform in front of the roped off battleground. Tommy and Jim strutted around behind her, flexing their muscles and waving their wands menacingly. She raised her megaphone, and her eyes, barely believing she was doing this on Christmas Day. She had to admit! It beat the hell out of a microwaved turkey TV dinner by herself.

"Roll up, roll up, to the greatest showdown in history! Watch Harry Potter take on his arch nemesis, Voldemort, in a battle to the death. Can Harry, summon the strength to defeat the greatest evil power?"

A cheer went up from the small crowd of children, who all had very serious expressions.

"Or will Voldemort use his hatred of Harry to destroy him? What do you think kids?"

"Har-ry! Har-ry! Har-ry!"

Jim came towards the crowd and snarled, making some of the children jump back. Several of the slightly older ones hung around the edge of the group, retaining a superior nonchalance that only ten-year-olds can when their group is mostly nine-year-olds.

Barbara cracked her whip. It was a skill she had acquired by accident when teasing Tommy, but was one that made him take notice. You never knew when it might come in handy. "Come one, come all. Stand spellbound with amazement as Good and Evil do battle."

She glanced at her watch. It was almost time and she was running out of circus related cliches. "Are we ready boys and girls?"

"YES!"

"Are we ready Harry? Are all your spells in order?"

Tommy made a show of intertwining his fingers then flexing them towards the crowd as if cracking them. "I'm ready."

Barbara nodded. "What about you evil Voldemort?"

A growling snarl was her only reply.

"Five... four... three... two... one... Let the battle begin!"

The two men circled each other like boxers sizing up their opponent. They rushed together, grabbed some clothing and faux wrestled as they stood and moved across the area. They separated, yelled some insults and threats, came together again and shook each other. Jim put his leg behind Tommy's knee and pulled. Both men fell and rolled over and over on the ground before scrambling apart and rising to their feet.

Barbara watched the enthralled faces in the crowd. Even the brave ten-year-olds were following every move, swaying and wincing as they men fought. The next ten minutes passed quickly and Barbara was beginning to think the fighting was taking on far too much realism. She gave the pre-arranged signal, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Harry looks to be struggling, can you give him strength through your support?"

The children began to yell and cheer. Tommy feigned great effort in slowly pushing Jim away. Jim leapt back and raised his wand and pointed at Harry. He pressed the button on the side and the wand emitted a beam of green light. "Arvada Kedavra!"

Tommy fumbled to find his button and realised he was holding his wand at the wrong end. He spun away from the audience, flipped over the wand and turned on Voldemort. "Expelliarmus!" A beam of red light struck Jim on the chest. It was not exactly the clashing beams of the movies but the children did not seem to mind. Barbara watched as Tommy slowly walked forward, his arm extended. Jim's arm was shaking with the effort of holding the spell. As he fell backwards he threw the wand to Tommy, who just managed to catch it and flick off both lights. Voldemort died in the spirit of all Vaudevillian actors, with much staggering, groaning, and wrenching of clothing and hands.

The audience clapped and cheered as Tommy bowed. When Jim stood to take his bow, the children screamed a warning to Tommy. He turned, pointed his wand at Jim, and in an 'oh-how-tedious-is-this-man-tone' said, "Die Riddle, and stay dead."

Barbara laughed at the wounded look on Jim's face as he dutifully fell. She clapped and cheered with the children.

"Okay, Boys and Girls, Harry needs to take a shower. He'll join us for lunch in ten minutes in the big tent. In the meantime, I heard that Santa has just arrived."

The children cheered and all rushed towards the big tent, even the ten-year-olds.

* * *

Tommy helped Jim to his feet. "Sorry, you didn't get acknowledgement for your performance."

"Story of my life. I'll go and get changed, otherwise those kids won't let me eat."

As Jim sauntered off, Barbara came up and kissed Tommy on the cheek. "My hero."

He laughed. "I think you can do better than that." He gave her a kiss that he hoped would cast a spell over her. The way she kissed him back and grabbed his cloak, he was fairly sure it worked.

"Thank you, Tommy."

"For what? That kiss. Plenty more where that came from."

"I feel weird kissing Harry Potter. Let's get some lunch."

Lunch was a chaotic mix of screaming children leaping around, singing at volumes Tommy could not believe small lungs were capable of achieving, and boys doing everything to avoid eating their vegetables. He smiled at the way Barbara won over even the most restless, over-excited children. Her skills seemed innate, and he felt inadequate. He was happy when he improvised and cast a spell on the worst child at their table, an eight-year-old boy whose only name seemed to be Spikehead. "Silencio."

The boy instantly stopped fighting and sat down with his hands in his lap and had not uttered another word in fifteen minutes until they were served their Christmas pudding with custard and ice cream.

"I might have to try that spell on you," he said to Barbara, "when you try to argue with me."

She raised her eyebrows and gave him the look where he knew he was being told to stop now before he dug a deeper hole. "You need me to balance your outrageous views."

"My outrageous views? What about your extreme prejudices?"

Although they said it with smiles, one of the youngest boys put his hands over his ears and began to rock back and forth, humming loudly. It was easy to forget that many of the children came from disadvantaged and trauma-filled homes. Tommy scooped the boy into his lap and began to chat to him about Christmas and Harry Potter and sport. Soon the boy calmed and with Barbara telling stories about circuses, everybody settled back and enjoyed her completely fabricated, but believable tales.

* * *

Barbara was tired by the time they waved goodbye to the buses. Running around after so many excited, sugar-fuelled children was exhausting.

"They had fun I think," Tommy said as he rubbed his back.

"You and William have made a difference. Thank you for including me."

Tommy did not reply put his arm over her shoulder and snuggled her into his side. They turned and walked back towards the changing tent.

"Oh, my feet." Barbara was happy to be out of her boots and tight coat.

"My eyes," Tommy replied as rubbed them. "These might be clear glass, but it felt like I was straining. Are you planning on keeping that?"

Barbara had unconsciously been running the end of the whip through her fingers. She laughed then gave it a flick. Tommy jumped at the sound of it close to his leg. "Maybe..."

Timmy grinned at her then shook his head. "You wouldn't dare. I can't see you asking William."

"Don't underestimate me, Thomas Lynley."

He laughed. "After this long? Never."

* * *

Tommy lit the fire while Barbara made mugs of hot chocolate. She was remarkably comfortable in his house, and he liked having her there.

"I couldn't find any marshmallows in your cupboard," she said as she sat on the floor beside him.

"I don't think I have any."

Tommy drank half his cup the. Set it aside. "Feet still sore?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

He removed her socks and began to massage them, pleased that she closed her eyes and made frequent small groans. "Good?"

"Oh, yes. Very good."

Tommy picked up his mug and finished his drink before continuing his massage up her calves. "Finish your chocolate. I think I should do your thighs upstairs."

Tommy helped Barbara to undress to her underwear. He was in no rush to hasten the night, and in fact wanted to prolong it. Her hands shook as she undid his shirt buttons and his belt. He had stood perfectly still as she pushed his jeans off his hips. Her eyes roved his body greedily. Barbara had done nothing physical, yet had changed the pace of their lovemaking. Tommy knew a kiss would be fatal and they would consummate their love hungrily.

He needed to slow things down. "Your thighs, remember?"

"Mmm. Maybe there are other areas that need massaging."

"All in good time. I want to finish what I started."

* * *

Barbara struggled to stay still as his hands skilfully kneaded the back of her legs. She was lying on the soft blanket that covered his bed. As he stroked her, her front moved against its nap, tickling and making her skin tingle. His thumbs worked their way slowly up her legs an few inches further with every long stroke. She knew he was teasing her, and it was effective. When the tips of his fingers eventually reached the line of her underwear, she groaned her approval. His knuckles ran up her spine and she jumped, not expecting the sensation. She opened her eyes to find the room was darker, only lit by a floor lamp in the far corner of the room.

His fingers spread in arcs across her back. Her eyes could not stay open and she retreated again into the world where she could focus on the feel of his touch. His breathing seemed heavier then her chest moved under her as he released her bra strap.

"Tommy?"

"Mmm?"

"I want to kiss you."

Instead of letting her roll over, Tommy leant down so that his face was next to hers. His body was pressed against her back, but he must have been kneeling because he was not heavy. They kissed softly before his tongue pushed at her lips, demanding entry. She obliged. His kiss was heady - hard, urgent, demanding. Being pinned beneath him, unable to move only made it more intense.

He pulled away. Her back felt cool losing his warmth. "Tommy..."

He said nothing but resumed his massage. His fingers traced small circles over her shoulder blades before her squeezed the taut muscles of her neck between his fingers and the heel of his palm.

"Tommy..."

He moved away. Barbara rolled over and pulled her bra off her arms. She threw it on the floor as he grinned at her. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. "Tommy... I think..."

"Don't think," he whispered as he kissed her neck, "just let your mind and body drift free."

"Oh... yes." Barbara squirmed as he continued up to her ear.

Tommy pulled back the covers to expose cool silky sheets. "There's a present under the pillow."

Barbara reached up. Her hand closed around something that felt vaguely familiar. She pulled the ring mistress whip free. "Tommy!"

They both laughed as she gave him a soft flick on his back, unable to get enough leverage to tickle let alone hurt him. He kissed her again, even more urgently than before. The whip fell as her fingers tugged at his hair.

"You didn't find your present," he said as he rested his forehead on hers.

"What was the whip then?"

"Up to you. I thought you might miss it. You seemed very attached to it today."

Barbara tried to reach up behind her. With Tommy over her, it was hard to move. His hand closed over hers and guided it until her fingers bumped a small box. Barbara tried to twist to pick it up but when that eluded her, Tommy grabbed it and handed it to her.

"I want you to have this now, so that you know I mean it."

Tommy rolled to the side, allowing Barbara to lever herself onto her elbow. She tentatively opened the box. A single unset diamond sat on red silk.

"It's a family stone. I didn't have time to have it set into a ring. You can choose how you would like it done. If you agree, of course."

Barbara was stunned, "Tommy..."

"And there's no pressure. I mean... we can continue this without... think about it. Maybe you need..."

"A space between your muttering so I can say yes?"

His face broke into a wonderful, loving cheeky grin. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. If you want to, then yes, of course. I love you. I... can't imagine being anywhere else each Christmas."

"Neither can I. I love you too."

Tommy took the box and snapped it shut before reaching over her to put it on the beside table. He rolled back to his former position. "Now, where were we?"

"My whip."

They laughed then kissed passionately. This time Barbara knew exactly where it would lead.

*Harry Potter, of course is the property of J.K. Rowling, and no misuse was intended.


End file.
